Brother Wolf, Let me in
by spape
Summary: A cross-over story not in line with the TV show plots with new characters:When Caroline Forbes decides its time to explore the possibility of a relationship with Klaus,she comes to New Orleans only to be met with secrets and a new darkness which threatens to tear apart the Original family and the love that Klaus and Caroline so desperately want. Can they triumph? My 1st fan-fiction
1. Chapter 1

The pain was unbelievable. It ripped through Carolines' body, causing her to tense her muscles against the agony of the next impact. Always with the torture, she thought to herself through gritted teeth. Why do I get staked so much? Was her next thought, swiftly overcome by the application of Vervain bandages which blistered where they touched. Seriously – one more bandage and I'm going to kick this guy into touch, she reasoned, a vamp can only be bait for so long before asserting herself. Or himself, she finished fairly.

"You vampires make me sick. Immortal? Look at you, you're nothing. You're less than nothing, and I'm going to show you just what immortality entails; the aching emptiness, the ever increasing monotony of life. That's immortality – dealing with the everyday commonplace forever."

Wallace twisted the bandage tighter on her wrists, satisfied by her moans of agony. He'd teach Klaus a lesson in manners; he'd teach all of them a lesson in manners. Respect for hierarchy. Respect for authority. Respect for him, the forgotten Original. The forgotten son. The first of Esthers' children - abandoned by his mother after her failed affair with an Other. Raised in the chains of servitude to his Sire; raised to hate his brothers, his sister, and all those who claimed bonds with them.

"Past reason yet, pup? Ready to call your master? Here's the phone, I've even bought you credit on it." Wallace sneered, his red tinged eyes glinting preternaturally in the darkness. He loosened the gag around her mouth.

She hadn't heard him creep up on her. No body ever heard him creep up on them. Their downfall, he reasoned. He'd snapped her neck quickly from behind and dragged her deep into the Bayou of New Orleans with ease without a murmur from her. So easy, so simple. It wasn't even that he knew her; he had sensed her connection to his errant family, and from that the next step had been simple logistics. A barter principle even a child could understand. He understood bargaining more than most. The pain of change, every day, keeping it at bay whilst his twin enjoyed a life he had never had. His identical twin.

Caroline peered closely; even though vampires had enhanced senses, sight and movement beyond that of natural creatures the complete blackness and closeness of the Bayou environment disturbed her; she focused through the pain. If there was anything Caroline Forbes was exceptionally good at it was control. Organised control. And party planning.

"Do I know you, jerk? Or is this some plan which I'm, as usual, not wholly aware of yet?" She spat the words at him "If so, let me just clarify, for your records – I'm not a hybrid werewolf 'pup' – and it's unlikely that I will ever have a 'Master'. So, let's get the torture bit out the way, and I'll just rescue myself this time, okay?"

Wallace laughed harshly. A bark in the silence of night almost, "Fine, _love_, fine. A plan I have and a plan to be executed with precision. Let's say it's a warning. So, you're not a pup? Good, at least you're not a mongrel. Can't stand cross-breeds, you know?" He lent back against one of the swamp tree stumps and crossed his arms over his chest. Nonchalant. Calculated. Exact.

Her pupils dilated slightly as she accustomed her eyesight to the level of wet wooded area. She made out the figure leaning against the stump. Recognised with a sickening sink in her stomach the outline of the man in front of her.

"Klaus?!"

The single name brought him up to her; one hand tight around her neck. His hazel eyes locked with her own. The vampire flared within her at his touch and she hissed at the aggressive contact, fangs displacing within her mouth. She tried futilely to shy away. His grip like iron and she wondered, briefly if he had forgotten that time, in the woods, in another place when his touch had inspired a different response. She blushed and pushed the thought away.

Wallace looked through the red mist which had descended upon him at the sound of his brothers' name. He noted her heightened colour and concentrated his mind upon the girl in front of him. No more than 18; eyes vivid blue and hair almost the lightest blonde in messed curls which flowed over her shoulders. Her gaze challenged him and contained hurt which kicked him in the gut. He let his mind go blank and swept it over her, seeking out information in her thoughts. Telepathy, a gift he could use as a weapon if he chose.

He carefully considered his position and withdrew his hand from her neck. His search over, he relaxed his guard in minutest movement of muscle measured to reassure her.

"Caroline. _Care. _Do you know what I've done? Do you know why you're here?" His words mimicked the sound of his fraternal doppelganger beautifully and he pushed the veil of belief and faith at her until her gaze dropped so slightly that he could read her mind as if it was a book synopsis.

Caroline felt the muddle of confusion in her head. Felt it battle out a place between the pain and the sense of betrayal. It settled her, mollified her, and she relented up to it. The sense of order fell away and her independence shuddered and crumbled inside.

With the tone of compulsion wrought in her answer she replied, "You asked me to come. You said I'd seek you out. That Tyler was my first love but that you'd be my last, and that I would come to you, in the end."

Wallace wondered what his brother saw in this girl that had caused such a glaring vulnerability to be exploited. In over a 1000 years there had been no chink and in the space of a year, there was now punched out holes in his nemesis' armour – the child, the family and now the girl. It was a triangle of tragedy that Wallace could exploit with ease. He had been the oldest, the first of the children with supernatural gifts. He hadn't honed them though familial love, as he supposed his siblings had. He had had them honed for use. For exploitation and now, a millennia forwards in time, he could use them himself for gain.

He focussed his gaze back in the present, his own thoughts a wall to every being in existence. He had made a decision. And that decision was a decadent play onto the stage of New Orleans.

Perhaps it was time to come out of the shadows. To show them that Silas had had other secrets. And other victims, and that revenge was best served slowly, burned over time.

"Yes, Caroline. You have. And you are mine."

* * *

Klaus swung back in the leather wingback chair. He pushed his feet up onto the top of the oak desk in front of him and glared around at his siblings. Disdain, bitterness and sibling rivalry fighting for supremacy over his features. He had been so underestimated, had felt so unloved for so long it was hard to accept companionship, even forced, from a time of loneliness that haunted him.

"Rebekah, what are you saying? That I'm _weak_? That all this that we're building – finally – is making me _messy_ in my choices?"

Bekah sighed at the tone of her brother. Humanity, the switch that could be flicked on and off like the light and the dark of an electric bulb, warred within her. She left it on, and be damned by the consequence, she inwardly fumed, "I'm saying, brother dearest, that there are too many loose ends now. Too many threads that can be traced back to us that threaten us all. Have you forgotten so easily Silas? Forgotten that rogue, Marcel? Or the Salvatore brothers? You need to tidy up. Become the Alpha. And for God's sake, bring about a conclusion to your unending obsession!" Otherworldly rage churned in her briefly. She damped it as best she could. Her brother's fuse was legendarily short.

Klaus frowned at his younger sister. Always the romantic loose cannon, her hypocrisy cut him, "I'm presuming you mean Caroline Forbes?"

Rebekah glared at him. Neither confirming nor denying it. Watching like a cat her brother's reaction.

He eased himself out of the chair, graceful and lithe, and moved with undisguised power across the floor of the room to stand an inch away from her, looking down from his marginal height difference but which, to Rebekah, felt so much more obvious than it physically was. He was, without a doubt, the most dangerous of predators – part werewolf, part vampire and part arrogant narcissist she finished drily to herself.

"I would thank you, little sister, to keep your opinions on any subject of mine, to yourself. Your precocious past is enough to make me question whether I too should be sending you on an errand of self discovery. You'll do well to mind what I say and keep matters of no consequence -" This he said with more flippancy than he felt "- to a minimum. Now, tell me more about how Hayley is with my child?" The last part was a roar in her face. The werewolf in him loved to bark, Rebekah mused again, shutting off the intimidation she felt inside.

"Growing well. I think, I'm not exactly a maternal fount of knowledge, and considering the fact that you murdered mother at least once to my reckoning, I don't really have much of a reference point." She finished sarcastically.

Elijah straightened up from the corner where he lounged in obvious judgement, Klaus felt, and made to join the conversation, "She's right, brother. Much as you make it hidden to all but those who know you well, you're growing sentimentality is making our power fleeting here. I welcome the change in you, I do, yet I can't help feeling that it leaves us disadvantaged with those who would harm us."

Klaus sighed. He rarely felt comfortable discussing his thoughts with others, not least because it meant he had to share parts of himself he would rather forget existed. Yet, here were two of his siblings – the most antagonist, to his own peace of mind – voicing concerns about his new feelings of humanity which he had, for the longest time, tried vainly to keep in check and secret. He raked a hand through dark blonde curls, cropped unmanageably which framed strong square features. His hazel eyes flashed werewolf gold and then returned to deepest hazel. He pointed at his younger brother, "You. You, brother, I will never fathom. First, you berate me for not feeling. Now, berate me for beginning to feel at all. Make up your bloody mind." He swore in exasperation. His clipped English tone markedly brash.

Elijah shrugged, he was used to the passions of his brothers. If he was honest with himself, he envied that passion which caused such erratic and non-composed living; such a verve and surety which he did not feel in his own convictions and doubted in all others but masked with ease, "I'm only echoing truth. You are a candle with several wicks at the moment and we need to cut some out."

"Your concerns are flattering, they truly are," Klaus turned to the fireplace, placing a hand upon the mantel and a foot upon the fender, he looked from one to the other, his expression unreadable, "but you need to be protecting our interests. Which, Elijah, I am not unaware of your own concern in this matter. So, take your doting vampire gaze, and cast it over my child, and my Were, and make yourself useful. Now get out. Both of you, get out."

Rebekah and Elijah exchanged glances before moving to the door of the first floor lounge. Large open shuttered windows of New Orleans poured sunshine into the space and the light as it hit the wooden honeyed floor reminded Klaus reluctantly of hair the colour of wheat, he closed his eyes and flicked the switch off. It didn't hurt, now, just dulled background chronic pain he could function through.

Everyday monotony. Power struggles and play which he was restless for and lacking. His inner hackles felt raised but the unease was something he could not pinpoint. All wards and protection had been made for his sons' future. His Were-Omega guarded by her unrequited beau, his brother Elijah and an elite group of hybrids under compulsion and Sire bond but with the added strength of an amnesia spell.

As for Caroline, she had made it abundantly clear that the incident of the woods – that glorious tangle which was indelibly imprinted on his mind's eye (for she had been without a doubt, the most giving and loved of trysts) – was a slip in her judgement; an immoral moment not to be returned to. That hurt, that hurt even through the flicking off of feeling, her pride and her prejudice which was insurmountable to the happiness he would relish on her given the endless stretch of eternity. He smiled inwardly, his equal, his mirror that he would, and he had made the promise to himself, _try _to be nothing but himself around. He didn't have to try, she riled him enough to feel alive. To feel for once like he had expectations placed upon him to aspire. She had stripped that away, and it would take more millennia to heal. She would never conspire to be with him with Tyler in the picture. And she would certainly never condescend to the notion with the knowledge of a child she could never bear being born to an imaginary rival in her eyes. It was lost, this pipe-dream of she and him together. And so she was safe.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take long for Caroline to realise she had been compelled. The nagging sense that her thoughts were not her own seeped into her conscience mind. She glanced at Klaus, sat across from her at the camp side. He had his back to her, his attention fixed on the task of dinner, her first food since arriving in New Orleans.

"I thought I'd get some Cajun cuisine. Not caged rabbit," She scorned, taking in the caged fauna of Bayou, tiny little eyes stared at her. Tiny hearts beat faster.

Wallace, smiling at the quip, looked over his shoulder at her. Resilient was not the word for Caroline Forbes, he had gathered from an exploration of her memories and thoughts. Piecing together the fragments inside her had been akin to a 500 jigsaw puzzle without a box picture. An enigma, a prettily supernaturally prime puzzle. And she could be compelled, so easily. Playing mind games with people was always hit and miss, Wallace reasoned to himself. It depended upon strength of character, resolve, a natural want latent within. And Caroline naturally wanted Klaus. She had said so under the first questioning, but she knew that – deep down – this wasn't her Klaus. Hard for her to fathom at this moment in time. Another doppelganger.

"What gave it away, _love?"_

She shifted position. Crossed her jean covered legs, smattered with dirt and grime and her own blood. She pushed her hair back, the movement quick enough to catch Wallace off guard, so he tensed. She frowned at the imperceptible change that she had felt. With more bravado than she thought she could muster, she shrugged and replied, "He would never use compulsion on me. Plus, the torture was a bit passé. No flare, y'know?" She cast him a curious look. So who was he, this doppelganger, this...Demon? The word floated before her. It was not her word and she recognised at once it had been planted. Something of her consternation must have showed on her face, "Is that what you are? A _demon?_" Caroline leaned forward, to catch the glow of firelight on his face – to see if she could imagine the demon within. She couldn't, the firelight glow highlighted only his strong cheekbones, his stubbled sandy jawline. His features so familiar to her, to her memorised touch, "That's impossible." She said flatly. Shaking her head in disbelief.

Wallace tilted his head to one side, and his eyes glowed red embers in the dark, "Any more impossible than what you are? What you've seen? Honestly, _Caroline,_ can you be any more naïve in your thinking?"

Demons had been a myth she had heard of. A myth, she mused, much like everything else that had become real in her life. She had read – she'd had a good 4.0. A keen student – even in death, though with the speed reading abilities it meant that she devoured books more consistently than she had before. Increased patience. Increased attention span and stamina. And what she read about Demons chilled her deeply. Here, in front of her very eyes, was a being whose capacity for...everything – vengeance, hate, love, _life_ – was without measure. She wasn't comfortable with the Demon looking so much Klaus. Not only did it unnerve her, but the irony of the situation hadn't escaped her either.

"Perhaps you're right," She considered her words carefully. That was something the books had mentioned, the power of word play, The power of influence through the wrong words, or the right words. Klaus – the demon – studied her. His expression of deep thought so etched in her mind that she glanced away. Stared down into the flames.

"Now – would you like a drink?" He proffered a glass. The liquid clearly thick and crimson. She wondered about Greek myths; about the underworld and Persephone. Queen of the Underworld.

Wallace placed it on front of her crossed legs and squatted to the ground. Predatory, "I can read you. And you're right, you should be worried." Sighing, he turned from her, back to the caged animals on the edge of the encampment. Dragged his fingers loosely across the front of the pens, "But not about the drink. It isn't cursed. There's no magic in blood that I offer – and animals are pure enough not to be spelled so easily. I haven't the time nor the inclination to. I have a bigger picture in mind." He smiled guardedly, "Your story is just beginning, Miss Forbes, just beginning. Remember that. And stay here." She blinked and he had gone, but the impulse to run had fled and she was rooted to the spot. A statue of patience, glaring at the glass in front of her unable to move.

* * *

New Orleans in full festival flare was a sight of magnificence. Streets, narrowed and wide, spilled out life into the deep heat of day and night. The flow of living beings, clustered with warmth and life bit at the heart of every supernatural being – alive and dead. The harnessed phenomena of such a gathering of peoples caused a drunkenness of the spirit. Caused chances to be taken. Klaus wound his way through Bourbon St. There was, for all the lack of space available, a very definite line that he walked. Mardi Gras had begun. Voodoo French influence and superstition. His reckless character loved it. A dancer, sequined up, sashayed into his view and he took the opportunity to fleetingly just watch before, as if a butterfly being pinned by a botanist, he motioned across to her. She did not resist as he turned her palm over and drank deep from the vein. The blood spilled effortlessly down his throat, invigorating it as holy water from a fount invigorates the priest. This connection all vampires felt at the the taste – this knowledge, the knowing of the person, images and thoughts, feelings and dreams gulped down eagerly. That was the price for immortality. That connection, sudden then gone and constantly denied it forever. Living vicariously, day in, day out. He let the wrist drop and walked on. Ignored her confused look; offered no explanation for the moment that had been taken.

God, but what was wrong with him? He had _everything_. He knew that, he'd ensured it. Everything. Here he was, by far the most infamous of creatures in darkness. Not just mooning but yearning. _Fool_ he said to himself. Romance is dead. Life is dead. You are dead. Now stop feeling, switch it off. Concentrate. There was more important things to attend to. The coven he had uncovered in the Bayou had designs not just on his order but also on something else. They had died before revealing their true purpose. The coven leader had engulfed herself in flames. Cinders before his eyes.

"If you're going to creep up on someone, you should at least attempt to mirror the sound of their steps," Klaus stopped in this tracks and turned to his follower. Marcel, his protege, his surrogate and competitor nodded his head in assent.

"Sure, _bon ami, _but I am not so foolish as to come alone," Twelve other figures in the crowd looked at Klaus. Tensed muscle – flight or fight. Klaus laughed hollowly.

"Good show, _mate_, but I hardly think that would be enough. Enough. What would make you so foolish to confront me here? Not only foolish but unsporting too," He chided, his voice lowered to a growl. Klaus assessed his risk of injury. Marginal – they were, without doubt, all new and untrained. I can't believe I trained him so poorly, he internally rebuked himself.

Marcel warily approached. He did not need to shout or talk overly. The words he whispered were heard only by Klaus, "Silas. Silas has not finished."

Klaus' expression hardened, he stalked towards Marcel, his gaze never leaving his, "What did you say?"

"I said: Silas has not finished. If you come for a drink, in less lively surroundings I can explain more. Otherwise," Marcel gave a grimace to indicate it would be Klaus' loss.

"I'm not playing, child. Now leave me. Leave me now." Klaus took another warning step, the wolf inside him readying for a pounce. That was enough for Marcel, he backed away, hands placatingly in front, before immersing himself into the crowd. Klaus spun round slowly to ensure the others had followed. They had and he was alone.

Silas was not finished. Not finished.

That could only mean one thing. Pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Elijah studied the letter he held in his hand. The ink stained with dried tears. This was going to be complicated, he sighed.

"Rebekah, we have a problem."

He thrust the paper into his sisters' hands. Abruptly turning back to the window of the lounge, watching the festivities of the street scene below him. He had been due to return to Hayley and to his nephew (how strange for a vampire to say that? He reasoned) when the letter had arrived. It was not thick, a brief statement of fact and one which could cause yet more angst to the Original family.

"Dead? He's _dead?_" Rebekah looked up from the note. Her expression was, as usual, unpleasant, "But he can't be dead. Klaus would have known. He'd have...I don't know, felt something!" She got up from the chaise long and began to pace across the carpet. Her bare feet sounding muted on the fabric.

"All creatures can die, sister. All. Why should Tyler Lockwood not be dead? He was young, impetuous and a werewolf. It was only a matter of time." Elijah controlled his voice, allowed it be inflectionless against the horror of another dead being. Another desolation for everyone that had cared for Tyler. That was a shame. That was humanity's insult – snatching away until everyone, everywhere was alone and facing themselves.

"He was a _hybrid_ Elijah, The first of Klaus' hybrids. Surely that must count for something?" She sounded exasperated. The pacing ceased whilst she flung herself back onto the chaise. Long tanned legs under a white dress briefly kicking up into the air.

Elijah sniffed, "He wasn't sired though. He had no bond. He had...resolve. He had broken it. Do you feel something when one of us dies?" He asked.

Rebekah frowned, "You're family. Of course I feel something."

Elijah continued to stare unseeing out of the window, "No. When one of our line dies. Do you feel anything?"

"No." She responded, shaking her head.

"No," He stated back at her, his cool eyes hidden under heavy brows, "Neither do I. So why should Klaus be any different?" Elijah took a heavy breath inwards. He sighed to himself.

"It doesn't give much information away," Bekah said. Her expression one of preoccupation. She read from the paper, " 'Tyler dead. Tragic accident – call off Klaus.' Pretty basic really. How can we be sure that is the case, brother, how can we be sure it isn't a lie?" She searched his face. Looking for clarification.

"Because it was Hayley who killed him." Elijah spoke simply. He had known that was the end. Her handwriting shaky with guilt and denial, the tear stains fresh as she wrote and the spot of blood on the edge of the paper – not her own, it reeked of Tyler, "You can see our problem though – with Tyler gone.." he left the sentence hanging in the air.

"...What's to stop miss Mystic Falls busybody from pushing down south to be Queen of New Orleans?" Bekah finished the line. The agreement in Elijahs' face unsettling her. They had always been close. Her eldest brother and herself. They had always been able to see in themselves exactly what they were and what that meant to others. Rebekah respected her brother, protected by him and able to sense what was in his inner thoughts. It was a relief to share eternity with family, she reasoned. A relief to be in bondage to family matters. Never ending family matters, she concluded wryly.

"We should keep this from him. For as long as possible. Give us time to organise our plans. To assess our options." Elijah was concerned. During his time in Mystic Falls he had not fully comprehended his brothers' infatuation with Caroline Forbes – her use had been limited and was decidedly limiting in terms of influence. It was...confusing. She appeared superficial – pop psychology he believed was the term she offered in terms of support. She rarely managed to engage wholeheartedly. There was, he thought, a coolness, a detachment that meant she was flawed to her emotions; a swing that could not be pushed without a detriment to the person stood behind it. And he feared that in the 1000 years since his brothers turn that this would be the woman he listened to the most. That Klaus would move everything when the time was right to ensure that this woman – this chit of a girl – would be encircled in the protective cotton she seemed to Elijah to want. Or that she did not, at heart, know what she wanted at all and that indecision could cost them all greatly.

It was not to be tolerated.

"Yeah, so when miss Righteous Indignation touches down in New Orleans I can finally stake the kid. You do know her cheerleading skills were absolutely basic? No flare, no imagination," Bekah fumed to Elijah. Her mouth twisting at all the imagined slights Caroline had projected onto her. Perhaps my sister has more in common with the girl than I thought, Elijah kept this to himself, allowing only the briefest of nods and smiles to emerge.

"No, Bekah. That is not the way. I do not know how deep this...thing Klaus has...runs for Caroline – though Klaus alone knows the reason for this stupid..affection. Considering his reactions, it is best if we handle this with diplomacy."

"Sure, diplomacy. And threats." Bekah flipped, "I'm hungry. I'm hunting. There is a crowd of life lovers out there and I need my energy drink especially after this bitter little pill I have to swallow." She cast the note to the floor, where it lay before Elijah carefully picked it up and with obsessive neatness folded it into his handkerchief pocket of the navy suit he wore.

* * *

In her dream state she could see the waterfall. Droplets trailing fast into the pool at the bottom. She heard her voice called from behind and turning, saw the shadow of Tyler. Brown eyed and dark haired smiling fully in her direction. She sensed peace. Calmness and clarity. She knew then that she was dreaming. In the final conversation she had had with him, before he headed to the Appalachian mountains again – his retreat; his sanctuary – he had let her go. He had put the bitterness of his feelings for Klaus aside and let her go. She may have been his forever love, but underneath the surface, he was not her passion. She cursed herself for it and shifted in sleep. Still sat in position. Still waiting to be released. She had said that in time there was room for everything. For being truly free. Perhaps it had been an echo of Klaus. Or of Damon, or Elena. All entwined in finding out freedom; mostly, she gathered in her darkest moments, mostly it was in filling time between days.

Wallace returned quietly. Invisible to all apart from the spirits of nature who quaked in his path and, out of spite, caused his feet to burn on the forest floor. He noticed bitterly. It was disquieting, after an eternity of isolation to come back to a place of safety and find someone there. Wallace never sought people out. He feared, like Frankensteins' monster the damage that would be done by his revelation. Yet here he was, compelled into action. A final straw away from impersonating a real being – regardless of its supernatural status. He watched from the branches of a tree as she slept sat upright.

I am a monster, he thought, again. I have no mercy and no rights. I take what I can to survive and to prosper. Here is the prize. This moment here when I can slip into someone's dream and catch them being true to themselves. Caroline frowned in thought and he hesitatingly moved the dreamscape back to something softer, calmer. He watched from the branches of the tree and he watched from inside her head and he felt that though this girl was infuriatingly blasé about life, she had a hold that was both useful and conductive. He felt that from the moment he looked in her head and learnt her secret self. I regret the pain I caused you, he mouthed silently at her figure, and around her the land warmed at his thoughts, green shoots of grass grew brightly and a beam of sunshine, a mimicry of the reality of it, spun down and wrapped around her. She glowed in her dream, in her dreamscape with the dead werewolf hybrid, and Wallace allowed her solitude in thought.

"You may drink," The voice was Klaus and it came to her hazily. She swam back in warm thoughts and chided herself. Opening her eyes, she looked into the eyes of the man she had sought out. They were red in the pupils. She didn't scream, she remembered everything and for a moment she contemplated refusing the nourishment, but she was thirsty. Her brain addled. And...she was in sunshine? She felt warm heat. Sunshine heat.

Vampires, day walking vampires, although protected from the harshness of the suns furnace cannot experience the warm caress of its touch. Caroline began to panic.

"Are you killing me now? Is this what you do – this your 'thing' – get vampires to feel the sun and then burn 'em up while prolonging the pain with blood? Well, it's not working. It's not hot enough and I'm not going without a fight." Her voice quivered slightly. It had been nearly three years since she had felt the heat of the suns rays and this refreshing pleasantness would probably end up in flames. Her flames. Charred remains – she shifted, her hand freed. Lifting it upwards into the sunshine she marvelled as her skin glittered. It actually glittered. Glimmering beads swept over her skin. Blue eyes, startled with fear and curiosity looked across at her captor.

I'm scared, she thought. I'm alone and scared and I'm going to die.

_We all die, love, we all die. Not today though. Not for you._

Caroline frowned, she opened and closed her mouth before thinking in response: You heard me. You heard my thoughts.

_Of course, love, I am a demon. I am a strong demon. And I have no one to stop me._

Caroline tilted her hand, this way and that. Is this the flames that end the days? Is this how we burn out in glitter then in darkness?

The laugh was genuine. As if the owner of it had not laughed honestly in a long time. It echoed in her head and she said: Get out. Get out of my head.

"No; this is how you would look if the suns heat caressed you. If the ray's that reach down to the Earth flowed over you, as they flow over cold crystal. You are unnatural. And something unnatural deserves no warmth." Wallace said this as he sat beside her. His legs stretched out, just touching the edge of the beam before he snapped it off with a finger click. He looked at her, "I have got out of your head. For now, but I liked it, _Caroline -" _Her name was sugar on his lips, full of compulsion and promise and exactly as he had meant it to sound. A shiver of – something – ran through her, " - And I will do it again. I have no one -" Wallace reached his hand up to her cheek. The back of his hand trailed down it, as he had moved his fingers across the pen bars earlier. He watched it, she felt, without compassion.

She shrank away, as much from the feeling of insecurity and need as from the act itself, "- To stop you." Her tone was sarcastic. Mocking. Wallace, unsurprised by it, moved away. To the other side of the clearing.

"If that is what you wish." He sighed, "You must be weary. It is weary: fear. Anxiety. All those other negative emotions that are so involuntary we use up energy without knowing it. Seriously, Caroline, drink before you desiccate." He offered the glass again, as gingerly as she could she took the stem of it and drank deeply. It was not Vervained, as she had supposed. She frowned at that thought.

"So, what was that? That glitter?"

"I told you, _love,_ that is nature's reaction to the unnatural. It is beautiful. I am glad I could use that on you. You glowed from the inside out. A shimmering vision," He spat the last words out. Not with anger but loathing, at himself, at what he was in the scheme of the world and the pureness of something he could never endure to be around without the guilt and shame of past indiscretions creeping into him. Harming everyone.

Caroline glanced back at him, "Does that happen to you – to your kind?"

Wallaces' mouth turned into a grimace and he wryly looked at her from eyes that he let burn the full red of his soul, "I have no kind. I am unique. As is - - well, as is. I have no family, no kin, no Sire. No past and no future. I exist as the balance decided."

She looked through the creature in front of her. Glimpsed the monster he felt he was, "And you hate him for it."

Pacing, raking his hand through his dishevelled dirt blonde hair, he narrowed his gaze at her, "I have capacity for everything. As you know. It is without limit. Control, however, ensures that this is limited by myself only. Do you understand, _love?"_

"Stop calling me that." The statement was out before she could even wrench it back in. The expression on his face made her regret the rashness.

"Oh, _love,_ you wouldn't have been able to hide that from me. Now, I shall call you _love _until that is all you can do. With love comes realisation and pain and acceptance and all those other trite sentiments that I would waste on you if I chose to do so. It would eat you from the inside out, _love, _and I shall watch as my brother breaks from the dawning realisation and pain and acceptance that he has no power that matches mine and no equal to call his own. Now, nod, _love_ and cry until I say stop." Wallace turned away. The monster that rose in him pushed back down with the bile of his own self loathing. The sound of Carolines' tears mocking his defence. He was unnatural. Unnatural but of Nature itself. For that, he had all of humanity, all it's faults, flaws and perfections and the balance needed to shift: He needed a witch.


	4. Chapter 4

Klaus' return to the house was tense. The building, French baroque style over four floors – long shuttered windows with wrought iron semi-lune balconies at each level – was layered in darkness. It wrapped itself around cream exterior walls. It was silent. With an effort of will, Klaus bit down the anger inside. The frustration he felt within himself for - - for what, _fool,_ what frustration – you are King. You need no equal for you are everyone's better. Still the little boy inside him was not convinced. Elijah waited in the shadows of the covered front door. Although the frontage looked out over the thoroughfare that was Bourbon St, the main entrance was hidden from view, a security measure to the rear. He had his head bowed in thought and Klaus almost missed the figure.

"Almost missed you, brother. But not quite. That was the idea, wasn't it? Correct me if I'm wrong but I assumed you'd be high up in the mountains. Please tell me that you're waiting for your ride?" His tone was deceptively light. Deceptive, not unnoticed.

"Rebekah would have me lie to you. I won't insult your intelligence. You are a clever man, whether you acknowledge that or not. He's dead, Klaus. He's dead and now he's beyond the veil." Elijah looked at his brother, noted the effect – the stillness, the frozen manner which betrayed his inner turmoil. It was fleeting. Momentary, and the recovery was quick -

"You tell me this, why? I don't care. I don't care that my hybrid is dead. That his were-whore had him at the last. _I don't care!_"

"You roar too much brother Wolf. I may not be a werewolf, but I understand bonds. Though he was not sired to you any longer than he felt necessary, I understand that your bond was still there. That you may not care that your experiment failed. That life will continue only now, there is that fear inside you that is Hope. That Tyler's demise will open doors you had closed. That is something you will have to come to terms with. Let me, though, brother, make one message clear: I do not care for your Vampire love; I care about the continuation of the family. And I feel that this may break us. So listen closely little brother, for I do not threaten lightly – if you seek her out, if you 'save' her in any way I will take the final stake and without hesitation end you. You will not bring this family down. And you will not bring her into it." Elijah did not wait for a response to his words. He had taken a moment of vulnerability and played his hand. Whether the threat would be held good, would be a matter of contemplation later, for now it was enough that it was said.

In the silence that followed this speech of loyalty over love, Klaus scowled. He kept his thoughts in check. He kept his fear, remorse and guilt locked away and focussed upon the beat of his heart, freshly renewed with life off a waitress from the dive bar along the street. Caroline was alone. Alone in Mystic Falls. He would wait. It would be his time soon.

Elijah had left. Gone, as he had agreed – his duty bound obligation – to take care of Hayley and of Caleb. His natural hybrid. His ultimate source of power. No creature had been born in such a manner. Yes, Werewolves could pro-create. They were animals; mammals – only a blip in nature's plan. Vampires however, they cheated death. They caused death. Life, for them, came through turning and yet, here was Klaus – an unnatural natural. Neither fully dead, nor fully human. He had succeeded in breeding. Would Caleb grow to be a vampire? It was too early to tell. Barely a year had passed since his birth. Would that too trigger a change to be a werewolf? When his first death, his first transition marked bone breaking days ahead?

Klaus had sent Hayley into exile. Afraid that to have them – to have her – so close would undermine all that he had built. Family, he scoffed, family was exactly what he had and what he feared the most. He had updates. Of Calebs' preternatural speed, his lightening reflexes and early development. Unease was not easily put aside – would the sun grow to taunt him? Make his days endless agony? Since the covens destruction Klaus had sought out the greatest Wiccan minds to no avail. Who would aid an abomination? He was tainted and he would suffer at the hands of nature. Klaus' sense of justice rebelled at this. He may be harsh, cruel, pitiless but inside there was the simple truth that he was without Hope, without redemption and solaced himself in extremes hiding the fact that the need for understanding – to be accepted, not feared governed his every waking moment. He must find a witch. He must find the magic to ensure his sons' survival. And now, with the news of Tylers' death there was the glimmer of Love. Of the romance he had long denied existed under this shell of a dark creature.

Not before destroying the old wood. Flora grows best when the plant has been cut; from the old comes the new. Elijah would pay for threatening him. Pay for the disrespect and disregard for his Alpha status. Oh, that crippling dichotomy again. A pack animal at heart who was cursed to walk alone through the long dark nights of the soul. Tragic _fool_. Tragic.

Klaus stalked into the house, his mood clouded with rage.

* * *

"You can stop now." Wallace ordered. Carolines' tears dried fast to her face, he was worse than Klaus. Worse. And she had, almost, betrayed herself by thinking softly. Briefly. Not now, he was cold. A monster.

_No, love, a Demon_

He smugly glanced across at her. Instant regret angering him.

"You know, you're classic passive aggressive? All that torture bullshit and then softening me up only to cut me down again. Is that a trait of Demons? Oh, wait, you wouldn't know – being the only one in existence!" She was fuming. Better judgement was not her strong point at times. Yes, she was at the whim of the moment, mostly she felt justified in what she said. Sometimes. The rest was instantly regretted and then washed over as best as possible. She stood up, stretching and arching her back where it had stiffened in position, "Do you even know how old you are? Why you look like him? Does he know about you – because let's face it, demon or not he would rip your heart out and watch you keel over. And if that didn't work, he'd keep doing it. Over and over again." Her voice was breaking, hysteria setting in. Adrenaline firing through her system.

Wallace watched impassively. His mind racing, though tired. She was strong, her resolve greater than anticipated. The tears had been a mistake, a reactionary mistake to her riling. He endeavored to react less, anticipate more -

"You're right, _love, _I am full of answers to questions you couldn't even begin to think of. Let me put some to rest now. Firstly, I am the age of Klaus. When he was born, I was created and cast off. I look like him because I am his mirror, his doppelganger – but you know about doppelgangers, right? Mystic Falls has enough of them. Let's see if you recognize my Sire's name, eh? Let's see how much you fear his influence, his reach: Silas. I am Silas' son. I am the reason he was cursed by Qatsiyah. She sought me out. Tried to hunt me down. I am witch and were and vampire in one. I am the Demon. The destroyer -" He had made his way across the clearing as his voice rose with power. The leaves trembled, writhed and fell. The heaven spot he had made for her burnt in flames around him as he strode towards her.

She backed up as far as possible against the trunk of a tree. Like a startled rabbit fleeing for cover, she glanced around hurriedly.

YOU CANNOT RUN

The words were in the wind, strong in the air. Desperately, she racked her brain for some panacea. Some tonic to calm him. Her blue eyes became vivid pools of ocean water stretching out to him. He was not Klaus. He was not her love. Yes, yes, he was her love. He had commanded it so. She could not run. Broken, he rent his gaze from her lifting a hand and like a rag doll in the arms of a tantrumed child he flung her across the clearing, she caught on the branch of a dead oak tree. The Bayou was silent. The wind dropped and in a second he was holding her. Catching her breath in his own.

_Love me Caroline and you will be strong. Love me and you will not be just Queen but Goddess. _

Wallace captured her weak body in his own. Together, in the night air he twisted upwards and they floated above the ground. Leaves cascading, a cyclone of a couple hovering above the Earth. This would be the end of Klaus. To claim Caroline, to have her take his side would be the balance – she was a Vampire who channeled. He needed her channeling belief to break his bond, to redress the balance. It would be so, or they would all die trying.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Sorry to interrupt the flow and it's only a quick question but for those who have read so far I don't suppose you could let me know if there's anything I need to improve on or get better or, conversely, anything you like about it? Equally, if you have any suggestions for which way you would like the storyline to flow - that would be great.**

***Spoiler Alert: I'm thinking maybe set up a Damon/Stefan -esque rivalry between Wallace and Klaus for Carolines' affection with the added bonus of developing Caroline into a super vamp with a sire bond courtesy of Wallaces' demon blood following a Coven show down when she's injured. Also, ambitious, I know but maybe adding a bit more development subplot wise with Elijah and Hayley. If anyone remembers Poldark then the saga feel once Klaroine have become an official couple could be an idea for future storylines.***

**Again, disclaimer time: I have no remote connection with, nor rights to the characters of either The Vampire Diaries or The Originals. Any work developed remains the work of the author. Just a huge Fan really.**

**I haven't watched the 5th series yet and I'm a massively novice writer (just a keen reader really) so any review/comment would be greatly encouraged. **

**Thanks, and I'll always root for Klaroline. Sigh. Ps, yup, my grammar is hit and miss but that's because my Alpha male is my Beta and fits in the spell check/ grammar duty as and when. **

**Susie P**


	6. Chapter 6

By the end of the first week in the woods, Caroline had discovered a lot about her captor. About his moods and mannerisms. She struggled to find in him what so outwardly was so obvious – the resemblance to Klaus, although uncanny, was purely that. A reflection. His inward manner was...she sought for a suitable word: Temperamental.

After the initial compelling, the use of controlled force willing, she felt he had become wary of her. The role of captor and captured reversed as he attempted to fathom what and who she was in the grand plan of the downfall.

Deep in the heart of bayou she pensively waited. In vain, she knew, as she had impetuously decided to seek Klaus out without informing anyone. Not Stefan. Nor Elena. She wondered quietly – aware that Wallace could at any time and on any whim read her inner monologue – whether they had tried to contact her. Ring her mobile or visit her apartment she had got since her she had had a mother daughter talk about 'independence'. Even visit her work she had managed to wrangle her way into (minus the use of her preternatural power) as an investigative journalist.

It had been this useful position that had meant she had found out where Klaus was. Her network of informants, although not exactly eager to explain, with some persuasion had opened out willing about the connections he had. They had remained guarded on, Caroline felt, more important matters – like, who was Klaus kissing now? She pushed that thought to the back of her head and glanced across at Wallace. She was in desperate need of a wash, her clothes stunk and the animal blood was hardly sustaining her. She could imagine herself slipping in and out of reality.

"You said I was channeller. I heard you. Is that good?" Her voice was shaking. Concentrate, Care, concentrate. Hostage situations demanded an element of interaction, of building a line of communication. Emotional blackmail and turnabout. She flicked away a bug as it landed on her arm, grimacing. Eurgh.

"You have good hearing." He studied a book he held in his hands. Leather bound, fragile. Paper smelling of age.

He made for a good study, she supposed, "Yeah. I am a _vampire_."

He half smiled, his full lips curling up, before he turned fully to give her more attention, piercing eyes – that red glow deep inside – momentarily stung her, "A cat. A pet. You are feline," Putting the book to one side, he crossed his arms, oh so familiar to Caroline her dead heart beat faster, "A channeller is rare. Their purpose has been well documented through history. The whole power behind the throne syndrome – if they could control they would, but that isn't in the nature of a channeller: negotiation, probing, aiding and abetting. You are a conspirator, _love, _haven't you always felt on the sidelines. As if the story happened to everyone else while all you could do was ask 'how can I help?' That's where you've got your opportunity _love _your chance to shine. Your chance to break that throne and build something better. Let in my brother wolf and you will be eaten. Let me in and I shall show you everything."

"At a price." His words had hit close to home. It was something she had thought in her most isolated moments. When the pain had overwhelmed her, when the torture had got too much.

_You wanted so desperately to be saved, Caroline, to have someone rescue you. See inside you that which you were. Strong. Powerful. Poor Caroline – an eternity of disappointment awaits._

You don't have to read them, y'know. She flung the thought at him, as loudly as possible. You don't have to be this...bitter. This broken, it isn't what you want.

_Sometimes though, you are right, Caroline. Sometimes people who do terrible things are just that – terrible people. The only thing is, Caroline, you are a channeller and you can change that. Only you. You can make those terrible people do less terrible things. Fearful yet? Scared yet?_

_You are alone. _

No. Standing up suddenly Caroline stalked towards him. Her figure shaking with inner rage. Wallace took a breath: she was so strong, so swept by emotion. He bowed his head from her, putting up a hand in warding. She stopped mid flight across. For her, the air was treacle with ever increasing dismay she could hear the slowness of blood through veins sluggish. Hear the minute sound of air surrounding her. She fought against it until her gaze locked with his. He stood in front of her. Hands outstretched. His features cool, strange in the scene.

"Everything has a price, Caroline. Even people. What we have is the illusion of choice, _the illusion_ of choice Caroline! Only that. Now, we can fight. We can bicker between us, but you are not my concern. You are not my target. Help me, Caroline. I have never asked for help from another soul. Whether living or dead, whether on this side or the next. I need to end this. I need to end my tragedy of being. And I need _you _Caroline. _Love. _I need you to channel for me."

She tried to shake her head. _Love, _his pet name - their pet name - it reverberated inside her mind. He said she would love him. Until it broke her and Klaus. He had said. He had said...

_Enough, love. _"Enough. You will and you will never know why or when. It will just be and it will be ever the worse for the fact that you will have destroyed me in the process. Love transforms Caroline. Transform me. Make me less terrible a person." Advancing closer, he lowered his arms and she dropped. A heap of body on the bayou floor. Sweat and fear, confusion and sinking.

She looked up at him, her face smeared with dirt and tears, vivid blue eyes steely. I know. I know – so, _jerk_, tell me how I can help end this. Tell me what you want from me.

So insolent, so unpredictable. The perfect weapon – a pretty bomb to explode in time. _Drink from me, Love. Drink from me and you'll never have to drink again. Then we'll talk._

* * *

He rarely slept fitfully. He slept fine, no nightmares, no bogeymen concerned him. There was something about tonight though that made him rise early. Clutching the single malt by the neck and slugging deeply before finishing the half empty glass of AB negative on his bedside table. He looked across at the figure next to him in the ornate mahogany bed, moonlight filtered in through the window, thick draped curtains still open to the Mystic Falls air: all this had been for her. His whole being had been for her.

Was this the truth? That living, existence, was freedom to love and love freely. No obligations, no games. _Boring. _He rolled his eyes and sat up.

Elena stirred next to him. She reached across.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

Brown eyes beseeching him to act, Damon nodded, "Sure. I think it was the last glass I had. Or maybe the cheese?" That's it, boy, hide behind flippancy.

"Should we ring Bonnie? We gotta see if everyone's okay. I can't go through...I can't.." She began to shake violently. Vampire emotion still so consuming in her.

"Another head count, Elena? _Really?_ They'll all be fine...Matt, Bonnie, Caroline, Stefan...oh, wait, that's all of them." Sardonically, he downed the last drop of crimson, "Whiskey mixer, might calm you down?" Shaking the bottle slightly at her, mouth tilted in rueful reassurance.

Elena, caught up in her own thoughts, shook her head. Chestnut curls tumbling hypnotically. Damon fought the urge to tame them with his fingers, sighing, he placed a reassuring hand on her bare milky white shoulder, the red strap of the silk nightdress stark against it, "Ok, ok, I'll text Stefan and get him up. He should be around - - somewhere," He finished. Letting his brother save the day again, he scoffed inside, yeah, but he had the girl – and wasn't that the most important thing, who got the girl?


	7. Chapter 7

"What's up?" Stefan answered his mobile irritably. He was not in the mood for his brothers' conversation. Although adjusting as well as could be expected to his brother and his exs' relationship the pain was ever present. Ever fresh. He raked a hand through his hair in exasperation as the voice of Damon explained briefly what Elena had felt during the night. And Damon too.

"I'm not sure. It wasn't, y'know, _weird _weird. It just felt as though something was wrong. Could it be Silas? Have you seen your doppelganger pottering around on a homicidal supernatural massacre rant recently?"

Flippancy. Pretty much the only thing Damon could do with style and panache. Stefan groaned, "I didn't feel a thing. I'll check it out with the others – I spoke to Matt this afternoon; Bonnie's flitting in and out of the other side – could it be that?"

He heard his brother hesitate. As if he had all the answers, Stefan sighed, "I - - don't think so. It felt more vamp, if anything. But if it felt vamp it could only be a disturbance with the Originals. They're the only people who could affect on such a scale." Damon surmised.

Stefan walked onwards, through the crisp autumnal night air. Pensively, he considered whether the line had ended. Whether Klaus had succumbed to the treachery inherent in Vamp politics. God, they could have only an hour to live. "Klaus?"

"No. No. Hell, bro, I don't know. You're the smart one. You figure it out. You got the family on speed dial?" Damons' tone was becoming bored, restless. Ready to cut loose the phone.

He paused outside the Mystic Grill coffee house. The lights were dimmed, but with his preternatural sight he could make out the interior through the glass. Still smell the exotic grounds of the coffee beans. So much of the world had changed since he had. So much still the same, "I might take a trip to the Appalachians. Check in with Tyler and Caroline. Honeymooners," He scoffed softly. His connection with Elena's friends ebbed and flowed – but the constant affection for Caroline's well being remained. That feeling of comfort, of sibling understanding – so similar to others he had known before, so different depending on her mood. A strong woman, with a strong will – why could he not of fallen in love with her?

Maybe it was the fact that he did love her, in a way he couldn't express which meant he could never be in love with her truly. One step out of sync. He shrugged – sometimes it was too early for metaphysics.

He dialled the number of Caroline's phone quickly. When had he last spoken to her? One week ago? Two? After the last of the Travellers had been forced from Mystic Falls each of the group had chosen within themselves to put some distance between the others. A safety mechanism – eventually they would all come back together but the days and nights had been so fraught, so emotionally long, that they needed time. And for vampires that time could be the longest still.

He heard the dialling tone. Heard the ringing and waited.

* * *

Caroline paced the bayou floor. Klaus/Wallace was watching her. A smile on his lips, full, upturned. She wasn't sure about that. Although not sinister, she wasn't entirely comfortable with the feelings they provoked.

The mobile in her jacket pocket began to ring. The vibration of it minuscule from where she stood on the other side of it. Looking up from her thoughts, she caught the gaze of Wallace.

"I should get that." She said, stronger than she had thought possible.

"Yes. You're finally becoming popular." He stated sarcastically. Lifting the small flip phone from her pocket he walked across the clearing. _Thank you. _He said inside her, handing it. Their fingers brushing. His eyes were soft with emotion. And for a moment, Caroline hoped that it would be Klaus. Hoped Klaus could provoke her natural antipathy because she was losing it towards her captor.

Wallace gestured at the phone, _I think the phrase is Stockholm syndrome. Love._

And then it was back. She snatched it from his grasp in the last moment and looked at the caller ID.

Stefan.

"Hi, Stefan, everything okay?" Try to sound cool, she inwardly monologued to herself, stay together.

His voice was brisk. Comforting. Warm, and there was something else, something unidentifiable. It troubled her, "Yeah, Caroline, are you okay? Elena and Damon had a feeling something was up. I'm checking round. Making sure we're all...all right. Did you feel anything last night?"

Caroline turned herself away from Wallace. Although a futile gesture she knew. Was something wrong? Well...it depended. She tried not to probe the problem he had posed to her. The answer she had given and the implications it now held.

"Nope. Nothing. I'm _fine_ Stefan. Just...hanging." Too bright. Turn it down a notch.

He hesitated, as if..compelled? Startled, she looked at Wallaces' face. He had his head in his hands. His focus on her. In her head she heard him.

_Yes. That's true. And that is you, Caroline. You. _

Stefan's voice faded into the background briefly. Time stopped. The air slowed. Blue eyes hazed with wonder glanced across and connected with Wallaces'. He took in a deep breath – at least, for a while, he would share his gift with someone else. And it would be his downfall, his curse and his cure. He put his hands up in warding -

"It is - - fleeting. It is part of what I have given you. Tell him to come to New Orleans. Tell him to seek out Klaus, but that you will meet him at the airport," Wallace frowned slightly, "I cannot compel you anymore. I can only ask. And – I thank you." He turned away from her.

Caroline watched as birds above in mid-flight were paused. There were no heartbeats to be heard as the blood had paused in each living creature body, "What have I become?" She stuttered out, "How can I restart – all this?" She waved her hand around in an arc.

"Just think it. You have become – who you needed to be. And, I'm sorry to say, _love, _that that cannot be undone."

Caroline concentrated on the sound of her own breathing; gradually time began to pass again. Liking winding up the hands of a clock, she imagined.

The confusion in Stefans' voice was clearly evident, "Caroline? Is everything ok? Are thing's really...fine?"

She breathed a little deeper. Steadied her tone and thought: _Come. _

Stefan became impatient on the line. His voice changed subtly – the warmth grew stronger, "Look, Caroline. I know things are _fine._ I'm coming to see you. Tell me where you are."

"New Orleans." Simple reply. Straight. She smiled inside, a small glow – perhaps who she needed to be was an improvement? She had improved being a vamp. Perhaps being _the _super vamp was an improvement still.

Wallace heard her thought. He grimaced – power. Power to control, create and destroy. Had he been right giving it to her? Sensing her inner self? Time would tell. She was strong.

"With Klaus?" He said raggedly. He had known that that is where the Master Vampire had fled. After Katherine...after Caroline. He wondered the spell that women had. Wondered at the romance men held for them and could never deliver.

"No...but I need your help. We have a..." She glanced across for Wallaces' assent. He nodded. "...Problem."


	8. Chapter 8

Stefan ended the call. His thoughts ran swiftly. He had been compelled. By Caroline. Which was clearly impossible – she was barely born in vampire terms. She had no strength physically – although she had Klaus' blood on occasion. Even the power of that had been fluid, and not great. So...when she meant problem _did _she mean Klaus?

He hesitated only momentarily before booking a flight to New Orleans. He left the briefest of voice-mails on Damons' cell. With some trepidation born of the control Klaus had, he dialed in the number for the Master Vampire.

* * *

Klaus was less than pleased. He had been less than pleased for a while. He laid in bed, covers half drawn back, his legs entwined in the sheets, watching through the shutters the light of day ebb away. He had awoken to the sound of his name in the night. That had slightly displeased him. That it had been _her _voice who had called him had displeased him more.

Dammit, would her hold never cease? He had traveled to her, bowed to her, granted her her wish of peace and still he tormented himself with these thoughts, these remembrances. He was _weak _and he could not afford to be so. Not with Marcel and the threat of the coven still large in his psyche.

He could not be broken by a girl who would barely register on anyone's radar. He should know that she was nothing to him. Isn't that what you like, though? He remonstrated himself, that although she was hardly there, she had these insights. That she held the promise of seeing something in you, only you held inside? Isn't that what you liked? _Isn't it? _

His breathing was angry. Raw. The interruption of his mobile phone buzzing against the wooden bedside cabinet top only made his fury at himself, at his own impotence to control his inner romantic – scoff scoff – worse. There would be blood. And it would not be his.

The caller ID was withheld. Mystic Falls. His heart leapt. He squashed it inside. Deeper. Let the pain in.

"Hi, it better be important." He kicked himself inside – what if it was Caleb? His tone. His manner. Yeah, you're a bad boy. He rolled out of bed as he spoke. His quickness of movement, his body honed to danger, to experience, for good or ill.

"Klaus."

He didn't mean to burst. But it was too much. He almost threw the blasted machine at the wall. Such a short werewolf fuse. No one would want _you_. Shut up. Shut up, "For God's sake, you'd better bloody be the Ripper or I swear I'm gonna..." His ammunition faltered. He sighed, "What do you want Stefan?" He hands deftly moved toward clothing, shrugging on a shirt – white against tan – legs into jeans. Denim felt like the hessian material of old.

"I know you asked me not to call unless it was an emergency. So – it's an emergency." On the other end of the line, Stefan tensed. He hated admitting failure in finding solutions. Hated that he was more like this creature than he had reason to wish he was. He heard Klaus' exasperation. Yeah, me too, kid, me too.

"Look just because I come round there. Sort all your tiny petty country issues doesn't give you carte blanche to interrupt me. And my life. Make it quick. Make it interesting. Or I'll make you pay." Klaus warmed to his threat.

"She's in New Orleans. I thought she'd be with Tyler..."

The curt insertion by Klaus of "- He's dead." Made Stefan frown. So, that was why Caroline had run to New Orleans. Grief. Good God, he was not a good friend if he had missed that glaringly obvious note in her voice.

"I...didn't know. I'm sorry."

Klaus hissed. He sat heavily back onto the bed, the thick mattress giving under his weight, he put the phone to his other ear as he put on his watch, "I thought you knew. I thought you and your humanity kept tabs on things like that."

"Low blow, Klaus, we both know we're closer than we admit. I embrace my humanity because I'm not afraid of it. Why don't you?"

He was goading him. He didn't have time to think of things like that, "What do you want Stefan?" He growled more. Allowed the wolf up briefly.

"I'm coming to New Orleans. To follow her. She asked me to come. I need to know you have her back, Klaus."

The stillness of shock caused Stefan to repeat himself, "Klaus? Did you hear me – Caroline's in New Orleans. I need to know she's safe."

He lowered the phone from his ear, breathed slowly inwardly. There. That was it. That was the concern, the problem – the restlessness, "I'll see to it. When does your flight get in?"

Stefan, relieved, told him he was boarding. He flipped the phone off. Looked at it and raising his hand, threw it at the wall, all the angst inside him rising up and projected at the mobile, "Where are you _love? _Where are you?"

* * *

Wallace was nervous. This was new. Although he was dangerous, predatory, novel – being outside his comfort-zone made him pent up. He looked at Caroline as they silently packed together the camp.

She had accepted his gift willingly. Graciously, not without a certain amount of curiosity but it was enough to cause Wallace to speculate her own motivations.

Caroline looked up, caught his frowning familiar eyes and briefly smiled, blue eyes lit up immediately. Wallace frowned further. There were complications ahead he couldn't foresee. One was glaringly obvious though.

"Can I - - stop time often? How..._demon_...am I?" She collected her jacket from the floor and brushed it off before facing him. Hands at her side, "What _exactly _can I do? And were you true when you said I didn't have to feed anymore?"

Wallace sighed, "I can do many things. For instance -" He took a grass sheaf from the floor, held it in his hands and focussed his gaze on Caroline. She watched him carefully, from between his fingers the grass grew fatter. The sheaf becoming darker, stronger, mutating into a metal blade as she stared. The root of the grass a handle of wood from which he held the knife.

She gulped in spite of herself, "Is that meant to intimidate me?"

He gave a half smile and blew the knife away, as if it was the blade of grass it had always been, it landed in the ground at her feet, "No. Just an illustration." he turned back to his pack, "You are something else now. Not fully demon but more than vampire. It will – help you channel. Help you survive." His eyes met hers they burnt red.

"Do mine burn red too?" She questioned him. Sitting flatly back onto the forest floor.

He was caught off guard, "I - - didn't know. They can't then. That must be...just me. Do you eyes stay the same blue?" He asked back of her, ruefully. Teasingly. Too familiarly.

She shook her head, "I'm not sure about this. You were going to torture me. I have no doubt you were going to kill me. And now...are we _sire_ bonded?" Speculating as she went about releasing the pen doors. He didn't stop her.

His stillness made her turn and repeat her question, "I don't know what that means. I have never sired anyone. I have a curse, why would I want to give that to another? I may be the most evil creature on the planet, but that doesn't necessarily mean I want to be." He was wondering things; debating the cost of collateral damage over the idea of companionship. Sire bonded? Archaic puppetry Silas had held over him. He would not wish that for her.

Carolines eyes narrowed, "Can I...do what you can do?" She lifted up a blade of grass in her hands. It felt warm to her touch. The sun was not yet at it's highest, and the residual heat of the ground unnerved her. She looked at the blade of grass. Looked to the knife, jutting from the earth. She closed her eyes – then opened them. If she was indeed a channeller, did that mean she could channel him? She thought about his breathing. About his blood in her veins. About how close and distant at the same time they were. She breathed in his air, staring across the glade at him. His gaze never wavered from hers. It was...reaffirming. The grass twitched beneath her skin. She felt it move. Transmute. Figuring itself into a new shape.

Wallace smiled inside at her. She was...new. He could feel her channel through him. Felt the blood thrum through his body. Every nerve ending on fire. He briefly looked down at the grass blade in her hands - - it was...different. Where he had thought dark, she had felt light and life. He motioned with his features to her to look into her palm.

Caroline squealed involuntarily. The blade was no longer in her hand. Gossamer wings fluttered against her fingers. The butterfly shied against her touch, "Is it real?"

Wallace tilted his head on one side, "Does it feel real?"

She nodded dumbly. There was much she had no idea about. Transforming grass into butterflies was a small miracle. So, Care, you ready to face your destiny? She damped down the excitement inside.

"How do we...get to the airport?" Part of her hoped the answer would be fly. Wallace shook his head.

_We're already here. Look around._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Again, with the brief interruption. But thanks to ZodiacKlaroine for the review – mucho helpful. Now, I hummed and ahh-ed over this so we'll see how it turns out. Stories sometimes write themselves after a while. Bit of spoiler alert: so I'm setting up the Wallace/Klaus love triangle with the added super vamp Caroline. Stefan, obviously is making an appearance and I'm going to build more on the Marcel coup/ Coven take-over. Having now got up to speed on things series wise, I'm definitely bringing Katherine back – traveller style. So, yeah – thanks for reading. More reviews please! Mwah mwah, Susie P**

"How the...what the...seriously?" Caroline looked around her. They were indeed at the airport arrivals hall. Busy-ness and life bustled around her. She looked down glumly at her clothes. Grim stained. Smelly. Then back up at Wallace, "Couldn't we have stopped by Gap, or something?"

He shrugged, gesturing to his outfit, "If we can turn things into life, or metal, do you really think that you have to stop by Gap any more? I've tidied myself up...perhaps, _love, _you'd like me to turn around while you do the same?" He gave another annoyingly rueful smile. His muscular lithe forearms crossed in front of him. It was true, she hadn't noticed but his clothes _had _changed. The faded denim jeans were now dark. The loose knit khaki top now a crisp white tailored shirt. He looked...whoa, Caroline, whoa, just because he's given you the greatest present of all time he's manipulated, connived and is totally using you. He's compelling you to love him, he's tortured, twisted the truth - - and he still hasn't told you his plan in full - - and he's hoping that you'll murder your potential date.

Seriously, I'm messed up...she shook her head, "Can they..see us?" She asked around, as if the flustered blush wasn't apparent on her face, the flush in her cheeks making Wallace hesitate again. Weakness, boy, weakness.

"Only if they choose to. I'd rather they didn't – you don't look exactly dressed for the occasion. Although I'm sure that's something you can alter." He said surely. He dismissed her briefly as he felt the thoughts of every person in the room...searching. He would be here. He would make a play. Bait and barter and bargain for freedom. He scanned the room, using his inner eye. Was it too early to channel her power? He didn't fully know what he had created by feeding her that night. Sharing blood and selves. It was...balance altering. Never had he forced a change on anyone. Never had he felt the need to share the loneliness that ate away inside. It wasn't in his nature to break out from his bubble without reason.

"Oh God, fine...I'll change into something. Will I be naked at any point? 'Cos even if they can't see me – I think I'd like to go into the ladies room." She glanced across at Wallace. Unlike the demons' she supposed existed. She felt nausea rise in her, an urgency to vomit within her gripped at her stomach, "I feel...weird. Really weird." Her stomach lurched, she gripped it tightly. Blue eyes beseeching, "What's happening?" Her knees buckled beneath her, she started to slip to the floor. Airport passengers around her walked by, un-noticing. Figures and people paled around her. Then she heard them - - the noise of hundreds of thought. Each individual broadcasting as loudly as if the television was on full volume.

Wallace was at her side in a flash, the distance between vanished as he placed his arms about her and hoisted her into his embrace. His eyes were clouded by concern and warning. Was this to be it? Was this to be one more travesty in the balance of world? In her, he had put nature into the unnatural. For even though he was a demon, unique amongst the whole of the world, his was a natural weighing scale in the scheme of things. He had married the two forces – and Caroline would pay for this.

She felt limp. Time drifted by, and sped up, the air whooshed around her head and focussing was an effort of will. Stefan...she called inside, help me please. Be here now. Be here now...she let Klaus/Wallace take her weight. She let herself slide into and out of consciousness as she sought some control. Her stomach lurched again and she vomited blood. A weak smile played on her lips as she met his gaze, above her own, "Good job I didn't do that whole clothing change-y thing. Oh God, I'm going to be sick again..." Her voice trailed off as she vomited again. Clotting masses on his white shirt. He walked with her in his arms to a bench at the side as people flowed around him. His attention solely on her.

She was burning up. Her head ached and her muscles screamed, she heard the sound of breaking bones and tears welled within her. Back to the torture...from beyond, she heard Klaus' voice. Heard him murmur sweet words into her ear.

"Be strong, _love." _With a rapidity he he not known before he was on the tarmac of the runway. Caroline limply in his arms. No medical doctor could cure her. No hospital would help. But he could not do this alone. He had created her, he had morphed her into this half life. And he had no idea how to help her further.

* * *

Stefan disembarked. His whole body attuned to life around him. He smiled at the air stewardess and took his luggage. Klaus had said he would meet him at the terminal gates. The walk through security was glass fronted. Open to the runway below. Reinforced glass, tinted only slightly.

He heard his voice. Heard too the painful note within it. _Stefan, be here now...help me please. _Damping down the frenzy within, he scoured the space ahead. Looking out, he scoured the space below and froze. His vision disbelieving. Could that really be Caroline? Floating limply above the ground? He frowned. Floating? He hadn't even been drinking on the plane. What was happening here?

She felt his eyes on her. Felt her head roll towards the runway concourse overhead. Why had he brought her out here? She was burning, in flames. And her bones were breaking. Over and over again. It was agony. Breathing deeply, rapidly, she lifted herself with all her might further into his embrace. Sought out the pulse at his neck, made to strike, to feed again. Pure joy. The nausea washed over her again. Slowly, Wallace peeled her face slightly back from his to see her fully.

"Hush, _love, _you don't need that any more. Feel the heat, get your energy from the sun around you. Gather it, _love, _gather it." he said the last two words with a subtle force. He needed her. He needed whatever strength she had. It possessed him.

Caroline frowned, "My fangs, what's happened to my fangs?" She screeched, as searing pain flung her arching back. He gripped her more, "Who the hell are _you_?" She spat at him in pain and confusion and hurt.

He brushed his lips across her forehead in reassurance, "Call me Wallace. But don't use it often." He murmured. The power of a name. Of a label. Had he trusted wisely, he felt so, in his gut.

Caroline snorted derision, "Wallace..? As in William Wallace? Scottish guy and all that?" She measured her breathing more. Tried to soak the heat from the air around her. Turned that pulse of fear into a worm of hope, grasping at the sunlight. For once, on her cool dead skin, "Please make it stop -" A spasm of electricity spun out of her, catching Wallace off guard. He looked round to where it was directed in time to see the pane of concourse glass shatter into fragments of crystal.

A man flew towards them. Stefan. He found the name. Sought the connection and made it. The figure flailed in the air, as he was pulled toward Caroline. Confusion – grief and anger on his features.

Wallaces' split second decision to reveal himself only made the animosity inside Stefan grow with the confusion. Confirming the antipathy towards his brother, Klaus. Wallace felt Carolines' energy – like a thread of jumper – unravelling in him. He cut bond and Stefan dropped down.

Caught in a crouch, Stefan flung compulsion at the confused bystanders. It would not be enough, it would hold the questions though. He considered his next move. Klaus had grown strong. Unbelievably strong over time apart from Mystic Falls. He wondered if he had hidden this power all along.

"Let her go, Klaus," He turned to the figure in front of him, "This isn't what we..." His voice died in his throat. He peered at Wallace, deepening realisation, "A doppelganger?" He didn't have to comprehend fully. He sprang at him, fangs open, shock and fear coursing through him.

Wallace moved with lightening quickness. Carefully re-settling Caroline in his arms.

_Help Her! _Wallace commanded in Stefans' head. He paused and clutched it, "What the..? _Caroline?" _The last word shot out of him, a bullet of anguish. As she lapsed finally into unconsciousness.

* * *

Today was not a good day to meet Klaus.

He driven fast through the crowded streets, until they spread out into the suburbs. He was never late for an appointment. Unless it suited him. Today was not one of those days.

He punched in the number of Stefans' cell impatiently, "Come on, Ripper, pick up." The tone cut out to voice-mail. Angrily, he slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Shaking it violently, his teeth gritted.

What the bloody hell was wrong with people? He didn't ask for much – unswerving loyalty; understanding, obeisance. How hard was that for people to give? The ride took, in his mind, forever. He pulled up outside the airport entrance and compelled the nearest onlooker to look after his car.

"Don't scratch it. Ride it. Or touch it. Kill yourself if anything happens to it. It's new." He growled. Before marching, determinedly into the arrivals hall.

The first thing he noticed was the essence of Caroline. His hackles rose inside. His nerves on edge. He kept it together as he weaved around milling people.

"I'm sorry Sir, but you can't go through there." A uniformed official put out a hand to hold him from marching through to the inner sanctum of the airport arrivals.

Klaus smiled grimly, "Look, _mate, _I am going through there. You aren't going to stop me. You're going to go over to that corner -" He gestured towards the furthest edge of the hall, his face inches from the startled and bemused official, "- And you're not going to come out. Ever." He motioned with his hand and the man walked dreamily across. His features glazed. Klaus sneered. _Humanity. Who gives two hoots for Humanity when you can have power. You can make your own Humanity then, Salvatore. _He derided inwardly.

Striding through the concourse opening he heard the blast; heard the glass implode. Felt the raw energy needed for it.

Marcel?

No. Not Marcel. Something else. Something more dangerous. More deadly. But what? And why? He broke into a run. Stalking fast along the floor, ignoring the bystanders who crowded his way.

The opening in the glass surprised him. He paused, his heart in his mouth as he looked down on the tarmac-ed ground. _Caroline. _

He staggered back, holding the edge of the opening, overwhelmed by his reaction. Saving her for the fourth time? He loved her. With a passion which transcended rationality. Wreaked with emotion, he hesitated. Watching the scene played out below him. Stefan – in mid flight toward.

_Bloody Hell!_

This was going to get complicated.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hey Care-Bear...time to wake up.."

Tyler. Honey smooth tones and puppy dog eyes...that's what boys are made of...Caramel voice and Wolfish grin – that's what men are made of...

Caroline opened her eyes slowly, fuzziness biting at the edges - -

"God, my head absolutely _kills..._Tyler?" She reached for him as he smoothed back her blonde hair from her face, fingers caressing casually. She frowned.

"Tyler..where am I?" The light was...all wrong. Too soft, too bright, too cold. Caroline looked around with her super vamped vision. Everything glittered slightly. All the surfaces bounced hundreds of coloured rays back at her.

"It's time to wake up, Care-Bear, you've been sleeping too long...You have to go back, Care, it's time to wake up.." He soothed softly, his expression was so sad that it ached inside her.

"Tyler, are you...? Is this where I think it is?" She wondered whether she had ever left Mystic Falls, ever traveled to the Appalachian mountains and stayed here, in this cabin, in the wooded glades. Time was not linear any more to her. She could be...anywhere, in any time.

"I feel like friggin' Doctor Who!" She muttered. Tylers' lips quirked upwardly into a rueful smile.

"That's my girl, Care."

She shook her head, blonde curls bounced around her shoulders, bare under the cool crisp cotton sheet of the bed, "Don't talk so cryptic, Ty. It's creeping me out."

The edge of the mattress dipped as he sat on it gently. Physical. Material. Tangible. She thought to herself, "So...I'm not dreaming. I felt that. The last thing I felt..."

"...Was unconsciousness. Yeah, I know. Then you turned up here, in my...errmmm...you turned up _here, _Care." Tyler finished. He fought to control the rage that eternally boiled inside him. Fought to dampen the wolf and bat that wrestled with his soul. Had wrestled with his soul, he countered.

Momentarily, he caught the concentration on Caroline's face before realisation that she had listened in to his thoughts – however _deceased –_ dawned.

"You heard that?"

Caroline was shaking uncontrollably, her body visibly quaking. Her fingers nervously picked at the cotton – a habit she had of distraction when stressed, "_You're dead? You're friggin' dead?! _When were you gonna tell me, Ty? Does everyone know?"

His perplex-ion increased, along with the sense that, yup, this was Caroline, and she was fine...

"Well, frankly, Care," Exasperated he looked across at her, a mass of quaking temper in the bed..naked, in the bed, he added internally...before finishing his statement, "Talking wasn't exactly top of my agenda. What with not having a voice box and all!"

She frowned, took a deep breath in and out, her fingers continued to turn the material between them. She didn't look up at him, still caught in the thoughts she had heard, "Yeah, well, does that mean I'm dead too then...?"

Tyler tilted his head to look at her more closely, he assessed her slowly, smiling occasionally, before looking back up to her stricken face, "I can safely conclude, without a doubt, that you are Caroline Forbes and you are by no means dead. Though what the hell has meant you can cross to the other side beats the heck out of me." He finished pointedly, "Wanna spill?"

Caroline shook her head...should she tell him? He was _dead_ dammit. Dead. She could tell him everything and no one would ever know. Well, maybe no one. She'd loved him. She loved him - - and maybe not the 'forever' love, the love she felt Klaus could give her, and she could give him, but the first love – the passion love, the exploration...and now he was – accessible only to her it seemed.

"Okay, Ty, but you first...tell me what happened – after I left you, where did you finally, y'know, bow out?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his broad bare shoulders packed with muscles causing her to breathe even deeper. She focussed – Caroline Forbes, you have made a decision. You always stick to your guns, young lady, she chided herself.

"Things like that – they don't matter here, Care – but I'll tell you," His eyes implied mischief and promise as they met hers, " - if you tell me yours."

She nodded. And he nodded in response, before beginning -

"After you left...I was heartbroken, Care, I really thought – I felt that it would be us, forever...I spent a lot of time just roaming, y'know? I could come back here. It would have felt wrong. I know that you wanted...you _need _more than I can give you.

It kills me – well – it killed me to think that the only creature who could was the one who meant that I couldn't. He's a complete bastard, Care! Everything he has ever done has been to serve himself. Everything. And that he has you...Well," He glanced across at her quickly, before turning to the window, where faked brightness shown like sunlight on the wooden interior, "I thought I should go back to the Pack. You remember?"

She frowned in acknowledgement at the mention of the Pack Tyler had joined to break his Sire bond.

She didn't talk and he continued, "When I reached the Pack house – I thought it must have been deserted. It had been so long since I'd been back and with Klaus...you catch my drift, any hybrids' Pack would be fair game at that point to him. But it wasn't. It wasn't deserted at all. Hayley was there..." The remembrance of the fury on Hayleys' face when he had found her caused him to falter in his speech. It had been so real, so raw to him - - the child. Caleb, so like himself in look and manner but then...

"She had guards. It gets a bit hazy, the death bit at the end, Care. Survival mechanism – take the pain away at the point of...I remember...They were Klaus' guards. I recognised his style on them, could smell him on them immediately. They were there to protect the child, Care. _His Child. _But it wasn't, you just had to see, Caroline, it wasn't his child - -" His gaze locked with hers as he made the final stab home to her. She stiffened as he said the words she knew were coming, "It was mine."

Caroline reeled. She physically reeled. Her whole being felt like it crumpled inside her, and for a moment, the concentration on _being _felt too much. Too overwhelming. She hugged her knees under the cover and tried to maintain a dignity that she didn't feel. Tyler was watching her closely. He knew every nuance and expression that Caroline had, but the vampire stillness coupled with..something else made him feel as though she were an elusive figment driven here to snare him for eternity in a cold hell.

Pull it together, Forbes, pull it together, ice blue eyes met chocolate ones, "Yours? Friggin' Hell, what is it about that woman that gets men going? It's the brunette thing, isn't it? I mean, y'know she's a deadly bitch werewolf who...pants...around and gets all the guys. All the guys that I've ever shown an interest in, and you're telling me that at some point in time _when we were together still _you cosied up and made babies? As if the fact that I couldn't...I can't..." Racking sobs escaped as her voice broke. Not hysteria, but the pure emotion that comes from knowing that the family you seek can never be. All her hopes...all her dreams...ripped. Damon. Bastard.

Another deep breath and she held it back in, even as Tyler reached out in comfort, his tanned strong hand – searching and kneading on her shoulder. She shrugged it off determinedly, he persevered, "You're different now Caroline...If I could have..Hell, Caroline..What can I do?" He beseeched at her.

"What happened next?" She pressed. Her lips a thin scar of pain, tight together.

He sighed, "I tried talking to her..to find out what the hell had been happening...to talk about...everything. She was pissed. Really pissed. Like, angry beyond belief. Said that I was ruining everything, even though.." A quick shrug again, as if to say, _you know_, "There's no way back when you have no head on your body." He finished.

Caroline, with her usual remarkable skills of recovery, felt beneath the pain inside her and let the golden glow of her powers flare. Tyler sensed the surge of power, of pure life and breathe in the room...his eyes darkened, even the golden Wolf in him dimmed in the presence of a channel of immense clarity and vision. He hesitated, "There was a twin, Care. A twin girl – Hope – Hayley had lost her, given her to another Pack wolf as...collateral." The word was said with distaste and bitterness, "You have to help her, Care. Find my daughter, _please_...Caleb has been – damaged – by the Original taint, but Hope..." The sentence trailed away.

She snorted. She couldn't help it. Even her sense of justice and fair play couldn't deny the anger which threatened to consume her. She hesitated at her humanity switch – everybody else – everybody, got exactly what they wanted, but she...always the one on the outside, he had said, always on the sidelines. Wallace. Her Klaus. She wouldn't disappoint herself though, and the noble spirit which battled inside her against her feline vampire nature had now an avenue of resource she had never known before. She looked at her former love. A part of her former life. And she nodded. She would find Hope.

_And I shall love her, Ty, as though she were my own..._

Tyler staggered backward, knocking into the wooden table, holding it by the edge, his expression one of utmost fear and respect and something else which still resonated inside her too, at times, "You..._spoke..._inside my head, Care. What's happened to you?"

A little smile played upon the edges of her lips now, as she let that thought gain speed. Damn Klaus. Damn him to Hell and back. At least, for now. There was more eternity than she could have imagined – now she was truly immortal, "No 'thank you for taking care of my daughter' ? Geez, boy...okay," She took a breath, before commencing, "There's a problem – well, maybe another problem," - She counted these new revelations up in her head - "Apart from your illegitimate hybrid child – being brought up as an Original vamps kid and the other being raised by Wolves in some Pack somewhere by some unknown but probably backward Wolf – and the fact that Hayley's a deceitful bitch – which, I might add, I always knew. And you being, well, totally dead. Apparently.

There's another doppelganger. Well, the first doppelganger, it seems...Wallace – he was – is Klaus' demon nature balance twin. And he's Silas' supernatural heir-thing and he's super-charged. Like, not a werewolf, or a vampire or a witch. He's all of them. In one."

Tyler had settled on a pine chair next the table he had stumbled against. Watching her and listening intently, "A werewolf-vampire-witch?"

She nodded gravely.

"Scary."

She frowned again. It was becoming a bad habit, "At first. But he wants to _die _Tyler. He wants to die and come here. Be free of his burden, but he needs to - - come to an arrangement with Klaus.."

"An arrangement?" Tyler interjected ruefully, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, more like, get him to kill him. But he needed me to channel the power inside him so that at the end - - he can...go. So that's what I am now. I'm a Supervampire-witch-werewolf."

Tylers' quizzical expression showed he wasn't fully convinced, "Isn't that completely against the laws of nature? _Two _super vampire...whatevers...?"

"Yeah. So I'm not sure what I am. Like a super mother Earth creature or what. But I don't need to feed any more, Tyler. No blood. And I can walk in the sun without a witch jewellery thing on. I can stop time..."

"..And travel to the other side of it," He muttered.

"Yeah, that too. And read mind. Compel. It's...limitless." Caroline finished. Her expression was slightly glazed with power thoughts. Tyler waved a hand in front of her face to bring her back down.

"So you're here...why?" He pushed.

She looked embarrassed. Blushing fiercely. "Because I wanted to see you. I was..sick. I couldn't handle it in one go, I needed time out of..time...to cope with it. And I needed you. To feel safe." She measured her tone cautiously. Testing his reaction – especially since the news of his betrayal – before finishing, "I'll come back Tyler. With...some way to bring you back. I promise."

Tyler smiled, "I know you will, Care. I know a Miss Mystic Falls always keeps her promises. But keep safe. And wake up.." He whispered softly.

The smile on his face stayed with her as she closed to the scene. Renewed and ready.


	11. Chapter 11

Wallace stared down at the weight of Caroline in his arms – he had felt her flight. Felt the weight lift as she left her body. He froze in time. Froze the moment as Stefan launched himself and then stalled.

She was...gone. Not dead though. Just gone. Dimensionally gone. He breathed a sigh of relief in realisation. She was...so different. And so helpless. Safety. She needed safety – Stefan.

He assessed the man in front of him: slight, medium height. Determined set to his features and blue eyes under a brow of thunder. He wore his hair cut raggedly, dark blonde straight hair. A casual grey hoodie and dark blue jeans with converse. Studied casualness – out of his time. _Vampire._

He searched his mind and latched onto his antipathy, replacing it with an urge to help his former friend – save the life of his newer. A new friend he felt...ambiguous about. Was it platonic love, or something deeper? Something tugged in Wallace. A worm of jealousy, he quashed it. Stupidity. Emotional sentiment. Stefan reeked of humanity and hope and life. He reeked of the dream of redemption.

_Redeem yourself. Save her._

Caroline was stirring in his arms. Her soft curves fluttering. And then he caught the scent of his brother. Of his twin soul. The pull of him amongst the airport chatter almost broke his resolve. He had revealed himself. _For Her._

Time began its drift. The linear moments passing. Stefan stuttered to a halt, his hand half raised in aggressive protest – altered to lurch ungracefully toward Caroline -

"Caroline? Can you hear me, Caroline? Christ, who are you...?" His blue eyes searched and Wallace shrugged. Too invested in Caroline to care to answer questions yet, "Nevermind, it's not important now. We've got to get her somewhere - - safe. Where are you staying?" He read the vagaries of the answer in Wallaces' eyes and shook his head minutely. Running a hand through his hair, Stefan thought hard about his options: here was a...person, a doppelganger, clearly preternatural in origin and here was Caroline. Covered in vomit, unconsciousness surrounding her, obliterated to the moment. He bit back his fear. Concentrated on the girl-woman in front of him. Strong, vulnerable: unique.

"Klaus. We need Klaus." Wallace spoke. His voice so compelling as to make Stefan feel as though it were his lifes' mission to find Klaus.

"Well, I think we're covered on that one, _mate. _Now get in the bloody car, all of you, before I start taking you apart. Limb at a time." Klaus' tone, a match to his demonic brothers' cut through the air. The two other men did not even merit surprise on their faces at the sound of Klaus so close and in person.

Nodding at each other, an otherworldly understanding between them – they all walked together in silence through the airport to the awaiting SUV.

Klaus' nerves were at their ends. A doppelganger? A bloody doppelganger, of him. It was...sod's law, he supposed. Not for long, obviously, once Caroline was healed with his blood again he'd dispose of this interloper and send Stefan back to the...well, back of beyond as soon as possible. He cast a look of desolation, masked by his expression, across at the limp figure his identical twin held. So fragile...he had never seen her so: bereft. He wondered where she hurt, whether it was his fault, at heart, that this had happened. Of course it's bloody your fault. She wouldn't be here if you weren't so bloody stubborn in not...what, betraying his family? His empire, his kingdom? For _love? _What, was he his brother now, in heart and spirit?

"She breathes?" Stefan asked softly, under his breath. Wallace nodded subtly.

_She breathes. She's conscious...but different. I...don't know what will happen if you feed her blood. Her needs are...not the same any more. _The younger man looked suspiciously at him as the thoughts flowed between them.

You can read my thoughts. Stefan sent.

_Yes. It is one of many things I can do. This is...my real face, if that is your next question. An unfortunate matter that I cannot change. I knew that Klaus would come - - you informed him, I take it?_

Stefan nodded subtly. Of course, of all the people who can and will help Caroline, it is the Original hybrid.

_His love for her. _Wallace answered, a flat statement of thought and will which made Stefan frown, dark brows knitted together almost in pensive contemplation.

Yes, his love for her. It is – almost destructive. It could destroy her, and that is something I shall not let happen. Stefan's inner monologue flowed back and forth with Wallaces'. Unusual creature. No scent of vampire – nor werewolf – but definitely _Magic._

Caroline was placed gently across the back seat of the SUV. The driver Klaus had compelled for them, so as to allow him the time and opportunity to weigh up his strategy both concerning Caroline and...the others, meant everyone could sit comfortably in the rear seats.

She hadn't stirred visibly that Klaus could see. Her body was oddly warm to the touch – he smoothed a tendril of hair back from her face and studied her features. Soft freckles so faint on her cheekbones, her small nose straight and upturned at the end. His stomach knotted in want and need. And remembrance.

Wallace sat across from them, next to Stefan. Silent thoughts exchanging between them as they learnt more about who and what they were. Wallace considered his twin, considered the thoughts that surrounded him – the genuine pain in his heart at the hurt to Caroline, the impotency to help her at this time. And the direction of that rage which was bubbling toward Wallace himself.

A tiny corner of himself felt vindicated. Another stricken too at the image of Caroline – falling to her knees in blood and fear. Not at him, but at the circumstance which had so gratified her to begin with.

"Caroline, _love, _wake up." Klaus murmured, so soft as to not allow Stefans' hearing to catch it. Enough for Wallace, attuned to the inner thoughts of those he chose to tilt his lips slightly.

_No._

Wallace arched his eyebrows upwards, that outburst had been in Carolines' voice. It had come from Caroline and was so visibly directed at Klaus as to make the hybrid jump back onto his haunches in the car, even as it rolled onward toward its destination. The inner heart of New Orleans. His palace kingdom.

Stefan cast a pointed look at Wallace, quizzical and confused. Of course, the youthful vampire would not have heard her. It was not him who was meant to hear. Shaking his head in Stefans' direction. Wallace motioned with his finger to his lips to remain silent.

There was something more dramatic to begin, he felt sure. That little vindicated part of himself bubbled slightly at the idea.

Klaus remained sat back on his haunches. A true wolf ready to spring. Caroline had spoken. In his head. Whilst she was unconscious. Turning his head he could see his doppelganger assessing him. His own eyes watching him, his own body mimicking himself in almost every way. But there was something else. Something...other.

Other be damned, he said to himself. He would sort this out, return Caroline to herself – feed her and let her go.

_No._

The word shot out again. This time the car, in motion, stalled. The engine spluttering and dying. He could make out the driver confusedly looking at the steering wheel and dashboard.

Bloody humans and there inability to think outside the box.

_What would you know of humanity? When have you ever been human? _Caroline. Again. Her voice, her sound, so strong and clear.

I'm imagining it. That's it. I'm imagining it. Klaus shook his head to clear it.

_Tsk. _It was...the Caroline tut. He heard it. In his head. That was not his imagination.

He tested this theory further in his head: Love, I knew you'd come looking. He intended it to sound as smug as he felt. His Caroline. He could show her his New Orleans, the kingdom he had built – Elijah could go hang. He had enough of his older brothers' diktats.

_Look you self righteous pig – I may be able to read your thoughts. Score one for me by the way. But I am also able to manage fully by myself. And you have a lot. I mean – A Lot of explaining to do. _

Klaus' mouth tilted upwards. She could recognise the mark of respect and rueful internal monologue which – for all her reserve and aloofness – tainted her resolve with pride. She shut him off and directed her thoughts at Wallace instead. He had watched this exchange with undisguised interest. And...something else. A wonder, at her. Again, a flash of pride in her new abilities. She hadn't faltered. Hadn't fallen at the first hurdle.

She continued the rest of the journey with her eyes closed. A restful sleep dazing over her – she allowed herself the relish of the comfort of the leather seat interior. The air conditioning and soft purr of the engine. Felt the heat of the sun through the tinted windows and wondered whether this would always be the way - - feel the suns heat, gain strength from the rays which had promised so much death previously.

Wallace watched the girl. He dismissed his twin whilst he turned to the scene outside of the car. Nature was cruel in tooth and claw. Here, he was joining life, briefly, before committing himself to destruction. His end. Could he do this? Turn this world on its end in the meantime?

Stefan intrigued him. The soulful vampire. So young in the heart of the world, yet his outlook a wisdom beyond that of many. A quandary. A question mark over his existence.

The roar of the freeway into the lively French quarter before turning into old trodden roads caught him off guard. He could see the shadows in the corners of the street. Feel the magic in the air. Feeding him.

Klaus brooded quietly in the corner of the car. His hands under his chin, balancing his thoughts. So reactionary, his twin. So _angry. _


End file.
